Tempus Frangit
By Denham Forrest, writing as Misnomer Jones
Tempus Frangit, Capitulus V
The craft that had brought Douglas and Myra to Simul's residence hung around until we were ready to leave, and then took the five of us directly back down west.
As it came in to land near the cottages, we were surprised to find that there were many other such craft parked in the vicinity. And a very dense ring of yellow shirts were dotted around the nearby hilltops.
I spotted Kay the moment we stepped out of the craft, and what's more, she had several ladies with her who I instantly suspected were some of the other Simuls, from elsewhere on the planet. They all wore the same distinctive purple attire anyway, and everyone treated them with extreme reverence.
Kay removed herself from her little clique and came over to greet us, or more specifically the three women. And very affectionately I might add; much hugging went on between them. Then she turned to Douglas and I and wished us all the best; or words to that effect anyway. Douglas and I didn't discuss it, but we both took her words as a dismissal, maybe even a "Well, get on with it!"
So we headed off towards the door in the dome. But we hadn't gone five yards when Douglas suddenly stopped. Obviously he'd been doing a little more thinking than I had.
"George there's something we haven't thought of... paperwork."
"Not with you, Doug?" I replied.
"The girls, George; they are going to be nonentities in our time. No passports, birth certificates or anything. When they find out about them, the bloody immigration people are going to give us a real hard time."
"Shit!" I said out loud. Then I went back to Kay and began to explain our worries to her.
She just smiled at me, "Do not worry, George, all that will be taken care of!"
I have no idea of what expression I had on my face, I should imagine, confusion.
"Remember Thomas, George. Now, don't worry about anything my friend; I'm sure, all will become clear to you once you are back in your own time."
The five of us entered the dome and retreated as far as the front garden of my cottage while a couple of Adona's guys removed the door; not as spectacular an operation as the installation of the thing had been, that's for sure.
Then, so suddenly that it made me jump, there was a strange whooshing sound, made by the higher-pressure air rushing into the sphere, I suspected. I know we all felt the effect of the rapid change on our ears, but we'd been forewarned by a technician to be prepared for that. No, what made me jump was the fact that suddenly it was almost pitch black -- it was the middle of the night -- and we were... well I was, looking up at the overcast sky.
Very cautiously, I turned to look to where Ciera and Chaise had been standing, and was pleasantly reassured to see the vague shadowy outline of two people.
"We're back!" Douglas's voice said from somewhere out in the darkness.
"We sure do appear to be," I replied. Then I recalled that there should be a torch in the glove compartment of my car, if I could only find the bugger without breaking my neck. "Everyone, stay where you are, I'm going to find some light," I was saying, when a string of rather graphic expletives filled the air. Douglas had found the stone edging of my front lawn.
"Broke anything serious?" I asked.
"Just my pride. Where's that bleeding torch, George?"
It was one of those times when you begin to appreciate what it must be like for people deprived of the wonder of sight, as I blundered about in the pitch dark.
Eventually, however, I did manage to locate my car; but somewhat confusingly, not the collection of odd tools and other detritus, that Douglas and I had left lying around it. Frustratingly, not even the front wheel I'd been sitting on whilst I'd fitted the front brake calliper; that should have been lying on the driveway. That being missing confused me, and somewhat slowed my progress for a while. I didn't wish to find the bugger the same way that Doug had located the edging to my front lawn; I had hoped to use the wheel as a kind of landmark to the car's position, if you understand me.
On opening the passenger door, the car's courtesy light came on, illuminating the scene, very eerily. At that instant, I knew that something was very different; but I couldn't put my finger on exactly what at the time.
However, I knew that all wasn't how I had left it. That ruddy interior light had never worked properly. That should have kind-of warned me that things had changed a little. I believe that the first thing I really noticed -- yeah well, the interior light coming on had surprised me; although it had rarely worked since I'd bought the damned car, but it wasn't averse to coming on when it felt like, if you get my drift -- was the fact that the inside of my car was remarkably clean and tidy. And, I don't mean that someone had just cleaned the interior of the car either; it had not been unkempt or anything, anyway.
No, it was like I was reaching into a spanking brand new car. For an instant I must have been rooted to the spot, until Doug called out, "Where's that bleeding torch, George; a person could get killed around here. Shit, it's dark tonight!"
Coming back to my senses, I retrieved the torch and then shone it around my immaculate garden. Only, of course, it wasn't my - 'immaculate garden'! I'm not much of a gardener at the best of times, especially when the surf is up. Someone had certainly paid my domain a visit and given it a bloody good once-over; or maybe even two once-overs. However, I noted that some of Sylvia's rose bushes were missing.
"Jesus bloody wept, what's happened here!" Douglas had also noticed the change in ambiance.
"What's wrong?" Ciera asked.
Doug and I explained, and all three women started laughing. Then they went on to explain that most probably service androids had been dispatched to guard the cottages.
"Service androids insist on perfection, George," Ciera grinned at me, "Anything that was worn or damaged, in any way, will have been... well serviced and returned to perfect working order."
"Service androids?" Douglas repeated, "We never saw any robots or anything like that in the city."
"No, you wouldn't. They cut the grass in the communal areas of course, usually at night." Chaise said, "But they don't do everything for us. That would lead to a sedentary lifestyle; not healthy for anyone! But they are programmed to repair anything that they come across that is not in perfect working order."
"Well, how come they've nicked some of my rose bushes? There was sod-all wrong with them, Sylvia..."
"Sod-all?" Ciera echoed.
I'd forgotten myself again, the girls had no idea what sod-all meant.
"Sorry, there was nothing wrong with them. Sylvia doted over the buggers."
"Perhaps, if Sylvia liked them, she asked for them to be removed," Myra replied, "There are very few pretty flowers in our time."
"Of course. That's why only half of them are missing, George," Douglas interjected as Myra ran out of steam. I think the young woman was not sure if she was speaking out of turn, if you understand me.
"George, the androids will have been in your..." Ciera began to say, but she suddenly stopped speaking.
".... Cottage, and they will most probably have... well, serviced anything they deem required any maintenance in there, as well," Chaise completed for her.
I had become accustomed to this method of conversation with the two girls, but I could see that it was still confusing Douglas, more than a little.
Mind you, besides the occasional confused expression on his face -- and the odd bewildered double-take as he looked back and forth between Ciera and Chaise -- Doug never has commented on the subject. I believe he knows... and he knows that I know and understand, what is going on -- so he tries his best to ignore the phenomenon. Not that I would like to have to try to explain it to him anyway; it's bad enough, trying to explain it here to you.
As the girls had suggested, the cottage had received a makeover. Everything was as it was -- or should I say looked the same -- but at the same time, brand spanking new! Carpets, curtains, wallpaper, furniture, everything as it was -- and probably better than -- when it was new. Much to his delight, Douglas's place had received similar treatment.
I was surprised -- as I really do think the girls were at first -- when we discovered that all of Sylvia and Rose's personal gear and clothing had been removed from both cottages. In their place, was twentieth century clothing -- I do believe modelled on Sylvia's and Rose's -- for the three new arrivals.
Oddly enough, including wet suits. I was kind-of curious about what Sylvia and Rose were going to do with their wet suits in the city; a few years later, I found out.
What Ciera, Chaise and Myra were going to make of their wet-suits, I wasn't too sure at the time. But I must say, that helping them get into the things for the first time a few days later, proved to be great fun. Well, I had some fun helping Ciera and Chaise into theirs, and I assume that Doug got the same enjoyment out of assisting Myra.
Doug proved to be a little more circumspect, where talking about Myra was concerned, than he'd ever been talking about his interactions (physical or otherwise) with Rose. But then, the two women had completely different characters.
I won't go into all the chaos that reigned over the fact that the girls found themselves parachuted into -- what to them must have appeared as -- a very primitive society. But they all handled it extremely... confidently. Cooking they were pretty quick at picking up, although both Doug and I became veggies rather quickly. Not because the girls made a hash of cooking meat; more because we both could see that they found the thought of eating flesh of any kind, upsetting.